


If The Truth Lies

by Wyrd_Sonder



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Boundaries, Character Study, Childhood Friends, Childhood Trauma, Dissociation, Drug Use, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff and Angst, Healthy Relationships, I don't like david, I will warn content for triggers, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Life Is Strange Spoilers, Life Is Strange: Before The Storm Spoilers, Mark Jefferson Is His Own Warning, Max had a life while she was in Seattle, Max has been messed up a while, Max has changed, Max has multiple powers, Max is dissociated but when walls are broken will be super emotional!, Max is hardcore, Polyamory, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rachel Amber Has Powers, She's from the future, The story makes more sense over time, Worldbuilding, based on my own experiences on abandoning a friend, five years is a long time when you're growing up, like life I guess, no redemption for nathan-fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:53:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28953762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wyrd_Sonder/pseuds/Wyrd_Sonder
Summary: What if Max's powers had nothing to do with the storm? What if the storm wasn't an isolated event, but a global event meant to reveal the existence of metahumans? Max had sacrificed Chloe when she begged her to save Arcadia Bay, certain that her life and Max's powers were connected to the storm.When Max realized it wasn't, it was too late. The storm destroyed Arcadia Bay and she lost the power to alter reality. Forced to live in a world thrown into a civil war where metahumans were viewed with fear and suspicion, Max had to sacrifice a lot as she fought in the war. Five years later, Max learns the truth of why she lost her ability to change reality and why metahumans were going to lose the war in every possible future.She never knew the full story because she never had the means to reach it. The Higher Powers needed Max to experience a reality where she failed so she would learn the truth from those responsible for the war. Afterward, Max regained her ability to warp reality and returned to 2013 with a mission to turn the war in the metahumans' favor.All she had to do was save Rachel Amber's life and make sure she stayed safe for six months, but Max never foresaw finding a place in her heart.
Relationships: Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Chloe Price, Rachel Amber/Chloe Price, Rachel Amber/Maxine "Max" Caulfield, Rachel Amber/Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Chloe Price, Victoria Chase & Kate Marsh
Comments: 8
Kudos: 64





	1. Life is not lost by dying

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter was brought to you by 
> 
> I feel like I'm Drowning - Two Feet

_It was supposed to be a simple job._

_In and out, just like it'd always been. Max had been infiltrating places like this for years, and no one had ever been able to keep her out, let alone know she was there. No one had ever given her trouble until now._

_This file she held in her hands now, the one she had been hired to find, changed everything she believed in._

_Max had promised herself she would only be indirectly involved in the war, having seen how easily her abilities could be misunderstood and exploited if she joined the fight directly._

_She bartered with her life every day to acquire top secret information that could destroy a country overnight, let alone know their opponent's every move._

_The bounty on her head? It inspired betrayal in the hearts of men._

_But this right here - she couldn't stop her hand shaking just by holding it - this information could be used to destroy her._

_It was with a snarl that she warped out of the secret government base, thirty stories below sea-level, and returned to the balcony of the cheap hotel she was renting on the other side of the world._

_All these years - and she had never known! Max never even questioned if the government played a part in the manifestation of her powers. While she knew that the Prescotts and the Jeffersons had been involved with the government for years - she never knew how much they knew about her._

_But Max knew, the best at their jobs were the ones no one suspected, and Mark Jefferson was an idol to many. Everyone he had abducted barely remembered a thing, and even with obvious proof, Jefferson had an ulterior motive than surface impressions, and it was the perfect cover._

_What he had really been up to, she never would've guessed. Just like the storm - that was the point._

_She bit her lip as she stared at her photograph, the greyscale colors revealing just how young she had been at the time._

_To think that she had the truth of who he was and what he was involved with all this time - and she couldn't even remember her own abduction when she was fifteen!_

_She scoffed as she considered the abilities she had believed were responsible for the storm that destroyed Arcadia Bay five years ago. Max had been naive, thinking she was the only one with powers. She thought she was so powerful that her actions were responsible for the snow, the double-moons, and the massacre._

_When in actuality, it wasn't an isolated event in Arcadia Bay. No, it was a 'reveal' of the existence of metahumans all around the world, and for some reason, out of all the places in the world, they decided to use the storm to destroy the Bay._

_But to think she had been so drugged out of her mind that she manifested her powers and never remembered it. That all this time, she had her powers since she was fifteen and never realized. If she did, how much could she have done differently?_

_She sighed, realizing that she had been in the dark all along. Max understood Jefferson's obsession with her in class now._

_She slammed her file down on the table, throwing her head in her hands as she contemplating her next move. It was clear to her now that she had to bring the fight to them and not just bludgeon their efforts from the shadows; she had to play this smart._

_Max leaped to her feet, tucking the file into her coat, and went to warp when she was frozen in place at the sound of a loud and unwelcome sound._

_Knock, knock, knock!_

_Scowling, she strode to the door, knowing that if someone tracked her here, it was only a matter of time before they knew her face. She slipped various knives from their hiding place and flipped them into the air, barely sparing them a glance as they floated in the air above her, tip facing the door._

_One could never be too careful._

_As she opened the door, she didn't know what she expected, but it wasn't the fairly-like, bubble-gum haired preteen._

_She blinked._

_"Hey, Max! You never change," the girl gestured to the floating knives like they weren't a threat at all. Max's glare didn't break her stride at all, the girl all but pushing her to the side as she walked into her room as though she owned it. "I'm Lyra, by the way."_

_Max sighed, breathing deeply to calm herself down, and levitated her knives to slip back into her clothing. "Alright, what power did you use to find me?"_

_This didn't happen all that often, but when it did, it was always because she left a 'spirit' trail and someone tuned into it, like hijacking a radio signal. Max couldn't block the channel unless she knew how they were tuning in._

_The girl peered at the graffiti on the walls as she absent-mindedly replied, "Like you, I'm connected to the Astral Plane. Your spirit messenger led me to where you were after sending me a premonition."_

_Max scoffed, bitter that the Higher Powers were involved with her life again. Once upon a time, she could warp reality; travel through photographs, and grant wishes, creating new realities. But after Max sacrificed Chloe and watched the storm come anyway, she realized that she didn't know everything about the situation._

_When she tried to go back in time, her powers failed her, and she hadn't been able to warp reality since._

_With the powers she had left, Max had to face a world thrown into civil war, with people fearful of metahumans because of what had happened to Arcadia Bay, and there was nothing she could do but learn how to survive on her own._

_There was only one reason why this girl would go to her - guided by a Higher Power no less - and the spirits being involved confirmed it._

_She closed her eyes, the heart heavy with the burden of knowing the fate of this reality._

_This was serious._

_"What do they want?" She demanded because, at this point, Max knew there was no option when Higher Powers were involved._

_Lyra looked at her, pale grey meeting cold steel blue, and whispered, "I have seen our people's fall. There is nothing that will stop it. This reality has decided our fate - but it has not decided yours."_

_Max combed her hand through her hair, breaking eye contact to stare out the dirty windows that revealed the forsaken world she had spilled blood for. That she had made so many memories in._

_"You talk about reality like I still have that power!" She didn't want it back, either, not really. Max didn't want to go back to a time that had nearly destroyed her, one that breathed life into her only to break her heart._

_The ability to manipulate reality was too addicting for her, and nothing would be enough if she had that power in her hands again._

_"This is going to happen whether we like it or not, Max. Higher Powers have only one purpose. You were given this power to know-"_

_"No!" Max shouted, ice freezing the windows as the temperature in the room abruptly dropped. She was trembling as she paced across the room, unable to process the revelation._

_"You're saying they meant for this to happen all this time? That I was always going to watch the people I love die? To watch this war begin with their deaths? To see our people fight and die - for nothing?"_

_Lyra suddenly snarled at her. "Do you think I like this? Max, I've just seen everyone die in every possible outcome. I've watched myself die!" She shrieked, kicking at the mattress with her boot. "I have to live with that, while you - you will be able to go back and remake reality. You will save us all!"_

_"Well, maybe I don't want to save the world!" Max shouted, done being the puppet of the Higher Powers. She wouldn't do this for them, not after they had used her to live through this hella catastrophe - to, to make a point._

_Lyra looked at her with shock at the proclamation and then disgust at giving up on them like that. Max didn't care, she didn't know what this was like!_

_"Have you ever thought that the Higher Powers you hate so much chose you for a reason, Max?" Lyra asked, tense as their eyes met in a glare. "That maybe they have seen all past, present, and future and decided you were the only one that could hold this power?"_

_Max exhaled through her teeth, leaning against the balcony, glaring at nothing as she heard the girl out._

_She didn't like to admit that Lyra was right, but she couldn't forget how she recklessly manipulated reality when she was eighteen. How she had used it so much, she had trapped herself in a loop within the Dark Room, her mind breaking under the abuse of it._

_"You were given a taste of that power, and then they showed you a world without it. Whatever your life was before, you had to experience the future... and mine." The girl said, haltingly, and Max could only imagine what it could be like to know when and how you would die and realize you couldn't stop it._

_"Maybe this was all a lesson to you, Max, but please, don't treat this like it isn't real. Our lives matter and we're forced to live through this outcome - for you!"_

_The time-traveler closed her eyes, remembering the alternate realities she had created because she didn't understand how it worked and used it recklessly. All to get her ideal reality._

_Lyra was right to call her out. Max remembered how as time went by and she used her powers constantly, she began to value people's lives and basic rights less and less. She took away their choices without them ever knowing... like Jefferson and Nathan._

_When she lost her ability to change reality, Max was in for a rude awakening, and while she hated what she had gone through - she needed the reminder of how life worked._

_The scar on her face would forever remind her of how precious life was. How important everyone's choices were._

_Ashamed of herself, she bowed her head in apology._

_"I only experience premonitions, Max," Lyra's voice softened considerably, the creaking of the ratty mattress signaling her approach. "But from what I have seen, I think you had to make it this far because there's something here you need to find."_

_"What?" She asked, leaning into the girl's touch on her arm. She looked down into the child's eyes, so young in body but ancient in eyes, and sought salvation in them._

_The girl quirked an odd smile at her, shrugging like she didn't know, but sure she would find it, anyway._

_"My best guess? The truth."_

_"Well, that's specific," Max said dryly, but the mood was broken when she smiled, a raw and genuinely thing she hadn't felt for half a decade._

_Lyra giggled as she turned to look at the stars, the wind blowing through her hair and sending a sharp knife twisting in Max's chest as she realized she would have to live with her dying, live with seeing this world die._

_"Only one purpose, huh?" She mused quietly, wondering what that could be. In all the things she had lived and seen in her twenty-three years, what purpose in life was she given the ability to warp reality?_

_Lyra smiled at her, truly living in the moment and moving forward after having a difficult conversation mere minutes ago._

_Max envied her, wanting to cast down her heavy thoughts and just breathe._

_As though sensing the sad turn of her thoughts, Lyra grasped her hand in her own, bringing warmth to someone who was always cold._

_"You can do it, Max. I believe in you."_

_And Max wanted to believe her too._

* * *

Rachel knew she needed to talk to Chloe.

Her fake-relationship with Frank went too far, and she made a mistake, a horrible and terrible mistake that she would regret for the rest of her life.

But telling Chloe meant watching her break.

So, instead, Rachel found herself here, at a Vortex Party, having too much to drink because she couldn't handle the terror of confronting Chloe with her betrayal. 

Only, the lights were beginning to shine too bright, and her tears were beginning to blur her vision.

Like with Frank, she had too much to drink and was losing touch with reality.

She brought a hand to wipe at her tears only to find her eyes dry and her limbs trembling. Panic struck through her heart, but Rachel found her eyes weren't the only thing that stopped working.

Her voice, stolen, like her consent, when rough hands pulled her by her wrists.

She stumbled, legs uncoordinated and far worse than anything she ever experienced, her pulse racing a mile a minute. She could do nothing but be pulled through a sea of dark faces.

Her head rolled as she tried to see the boy pulling at her, wondering if she knew them and what she has done to them. 

Suddenly, there was a shout, and one of those colorful floaties pushed the blur pulling her into the pool with a loud splash. Rachel was hit with water but could do nothing as her body tilted forward, her body collapsing like the strings were cut with no one to pull her along.

Rachel wondered if she would drown when she hit the water. If anyone would notice as her lungs filled with water? if anyone would _care._

Slender arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her back from the pool before she could find out.

Rachel sighed, her heart lightened that someone caught her, and found it was easier to walk this time. Her rescuer helping her hold her weight rather than dragging her along.

"It will be okay," cold breath whispered by her ear. A woman's voice, calm and sure, brought comfort where there had only been fear before as she guided Rachel through the crowd of liberated teenagers.

"I got you," the woman promised, shorter than her, and yet Rachel believed she could take on the entire football team if it kept her safe.

Her breath hitched, unsure what to do with such a promise, but she could do nothing but hold on as they stepped outside. She leaned further into the woman, grateful to be away from the blinding lights and people, the fresh air a soothing balm to her terror. 

Rachel could only burrow her head closer to the woman, appreciating the smooth black leather of her jacket accented by a warm grey hoodie, the scent of jasmine, and something that distinctly reminded her of winter. 

It was nice. 

She didn't know what was going on, but she found comfort where she can, scared of when it would be taken away from her again.

Loud shouts pierced through the calm silence of the night, and she remembered the boy who had been pulling her before.

The woman seemed to sense her discomfort, holding her tighter. Rachel felt her shift, pulling something from her jacket that glinted silver in the moonlight. 

She heard the doors burst open, the hitches screeching as they were pushed past their limits, and saw an angry red blur heading her way. Rachel trembled but did not pull away from the woman, taking her chances with her even as her throat closed up. 

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" His voice was loud and dangerous, laced with a lethality that had Rachel stepping back instinctively.

Only one word could inspire such danger and terror, and Rachel grabbed the woman's arm tightly as his presence all but screamed - _predator!_

"I suggest that you _back off_ ," the woman advised, her voice dropping like the temperature.

Rachel distantly mused that it was pretty cold for spring.

"You really think I'm going to let you take a student away from the school? It's obvious you don't go here!" He didn't back down, striding closer with heavy footsteps that rang in her ears.

Silver flashed, and the boy stopped in his tracks.

"And you really take me for a fool, huh?" The woman drawled, the silver blur flipping in the air to be joined by another.

"I know you drugged her," the words were ice, sending chills down her spine. The boy stumbled at the accusation, and Rachel felt powerful just by being next to the woman as he backed away. 

"You can't accuse me like this! Don't you know who I am! I'm-," he fumbled over his words suddenly, and that was as much as confirmation that he spiked her drink than anything.

"Come on, giving me another reason to bury my knife in your skull," the woman all but dared, threatening the boy like the blur wasn't several inches taller than them both.

He didn't. Nor did he say another word to send her heart racing. 

The woman chuckled, dark and hair-raising.

"Now, if I ever hear about you or see you so much as breathing in the same room as my friend here," she pointed her knives at him. "It will be the _last_ thing you ever do."

Rachel's throat was dry as she watched the predator runoff, his footsteps fading in the distance until they were gone entirely, and she could barely believe she survived this night.

The woman carefully led her away, and Rachel relaxed as the temperature gradually got warmer and warmer until they were standing in the parking lot.

Rachel stumbled as she was gently maneuvered to sit on the curve, though her rescuer was thoughtful enough to let her keep her shoulder, and she slumped into it with a week's worth of regret and anxiety. 

"Now, do you have someone I can contact for you?" Rachel stopped breathing.

"Someone you feel safe with after tonight?"

She swallowed dryly, not sure if the drug was wearing off but glad that she now had the strength to meet the eyes of the woman who saved her.

Blue. Ice blue, really. The dark shadows around her eyes made them look sharper, piercing even.

They were nothing like Chloe's, but the thought had her making her decision.

Rachel fumbled for her phone, her hands still trembling and unfeeling. She stopped when the woman held them in her hands, cold but somehow comforting as she held them.

"Chloe," she rasped, trying to get enough moisture in her throat to speak more than a croak. "My girlfriend," she managed after clearing her throat multiple times. It was the furthest Rachel's been graceful but the woman only gave her a nod before carefully looked through her pocket for her phone.

As she leaned closer, Rachel's blurred vision sharpened, revealing the white scar running down the left side of the woman's face.

It was raised and jagged, and Rachel's chest felt tight just looking at it. She darted to her left eye, wondering if she could even see well, and then looked away entirely because had been staring. She flushed, embarrassed. 

Rachel sighed, trying to wrangle her emotions and get ahold of herself.

But as the woman withdrew with her phone in hand, she realized it was a futile gesture and stared at her shoes.

"Password?" The woman asked, showing her the locked screen. Rachel mumbled the number, thinking of Chloe and what she would say to her.

She didn't think she could do this.

But there was no one else.

She couldn't hear the phone ringing, but the woman didn't leave her to have the conversation, so Rachel relaxed.

"I'm sorry, Rachel can't be on the phone right now. Your name is Chloe, right?" Her voice was detached and straight-forward like she was making a 9-1-1 call and not just talking to a delinquent many treated her girlfriend as.

Rachel felt her fingertips tingle as feeling returned to them and wondered what must be going through Chloe's mind right now. 

"Rachel is going to be okay." The woman squeezed her fingers in assurance as she spoke. "She's with me right now, but she needs you. She needs a safe place," the woman said, looking at her with an intensity that Rachel felt down to her _soul._

She knew that look meant something deeper than what she was seeing and Rachel thirsted to know her secrets. 

She suppressed the desire, remembering that this woman wasn't like everyone else, and she didn't want to manipulate her to get what she wanted. 

Rachel wouldn't do that to someone who put her needs first. 

"We're in the parking lot outside a school," the woman looked around, eyes jumping from one thing to another. "Southwestern side near a lampost. Yes, don't worry, I'll stay with her." The woman pulled the phone from her ear before locking it and giving it back to her.

Rachel could've smiled, surprised she didn't look through her phone like so many of her classmates tried before. 

It was just another reminder that this woman was different. 

The air between them changed after that. Rachel felt like she could breathe for a moment.

The women didn't try to start a conversation idly. She didn't look at Rachel like she expected anything of her. She didn't do anything at all.

The woman just sat there, holding her hand as Rachel leaned into her side, and stared into the sky. Whatever the woman she was thinking, Rachel could only make stories of, but she was thankful she stayed.

That she stayed for her. 

Chloe's arrival was impossible to miss. Her truck was making enough racket to be heard from miles. The truck was her girlfriend personified, and it's cracked blue paint was a welcome sight. 

Rachel felt the woman tense, her eyes on the truck like it was a bullet heading their way, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she held her hand tighter as she was pulled back to her feet and Rachel glad that the drug wore off enough that she could hold herself up now. 

She smiled when Chloe parked the car right in front of them, banging open the door and throwing herself out of it with a flurry of motion. 

In seconds, she was in her arms. 

Rachel breathed deeply, feeling herself fall in love with Chloe all over again as her scent comforted her away from the chill of night.

After a moment, she pulled away and looked at the woman who had done so much for her. Rachel didn't even notice when she pulled her way.

She missed the cold. 

Chloe was looking at the woman with so much gratitude that Rachel realized Chloe's love for her was so deep she looked past her instinctive distrust of everyone for a change.

"Thank you so much." Her voice was thick with worry and fractured bravado. "Rachel means everything to me," Chloe said, pulling her closer to her as she guided her to her truck.

But Rachel dragged her feet; catching the _agony_ in the eyes of the woman who saved her life. Ice fracturing and revealing the sorrow that sunk deep in the ocean. 

It stole the breath from her lungs and squeezed her heart with second-hand pain. 

"Stay," Rachel said abruptly, tugging on Chloe's sleeve to stop her as she turned to the woman.

The brown-haired woman tilted her head to the side, an eyebrow cocked in surprise. The lamplight she stood under illuminated the freckles on her face, and despite the sadness in the woman, Rachel found her beautiful despite it. 

Rachel didn't know who this woman was.

She had never seen her before and knew she wasn't a student at Blackwall. But she didn't have to know her name to know that she could trust her.

Rachel could trust her by the way she held her. In the way, her eyes softened as she put every one of her needs before her own, and how she stayed beside her without a word just so she wouldn't feel alone.

Rachel always followed her instincts when it came to people, and while there was something more to this woman than met the eye - something familiar - Rachel was afraid she would never see her again.

The last time she felt a connection to someone like this, it was Chloe, and like this woman, they had both saved her. 

"Stay," she asked more firmly, looking right at the woman and hoping with everything she had, that she would.

The woman she gave nothing else away than her surprise at the offer, and while her eyes were cold as she looked at them, Rachel could tell it wasn't directed at them. 

"Alright," she said after a beat, walking over to them.

The woman pulled herself over the back of the truck, settling in the cargo bed with a raised eyebrow at Chloe as though expressing, _'well?'_

Rachel smiled as Chloe sighed but got moving, helping her inside all while mumbling under her breath about being pulled over.

Rachel couldn't help herself, her hand cupping her girlfriend's face and feeling her sigh against the sensitive skin of her wrist.

"I love you," she whispered, pulling Chloe into her lips with every bit of strength she had left, pouring her love into the kiss. 

Rachel pulled away before it could go any deeper or heated, just wanting to show Chloe what she meant to her, and pushed a strand of her blue hair to the side before releasing her.

The look in Chloe's eyes was like fireworks, lit up in a way that stole all the air from her lungs and set fire to her soul.

"I love you too, Rach," Chloe cried, voice cracking, and she didn't even try to hide it. Her eyes were wet, but they were so happy that even though this night had gone wrong in every way, she wouldn't have Chloe if it wasn't for this woman, and that made everything better. 

As Chloe closed the door and made her way to the driver's side, Rachel looked back to see the woman laying against the side of the bed with her hood pulled over her face. Rachel could tell she was watching the stars. 

She wondered about her. Who she was and where she was from. 

Rachel smiled. She didn't know how, but she knew everything would be okay as long as she had these two women beside her. 


	2. Life is complicated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life is complicated, people seldom sonder, and sometimes things have to get worse before they get better. In other words, Max makes a confession that will inspire a great change but it won't be an easy one. As a result, Chloe needs some space and Max gets herself into trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by No Going Back (Position Music - Tom Player)
> 
> seriously, I'd never get anything done without music these days, haha

"Do you have a moment?" 

Max could barely hear anything over the roaring of her heartbeat; even the sound of her voice sounded distant and detached. She doubted Chloe noticed, having watched the younger woman sit at her girlfriend's side as she slept off the remanents of the drugs for hours in the junkyard cabin without speaking a single word since Rachel passed out.

She usually wouldn't mind, but Max felt restless since she first saw that beat-up old truck arrives at the parking lot. Max feared that if she didn't talk to Chloe now, she'd lose all her courage and wouldn't bring the truth to light until it was too late.

Chloe wouldn't forgive her for another omission of truth. 

"Can we do this later?" She muttered gruffly, a half-empty bottle in hand. 

Max eyes the beer with weariness in her bones, steeling her spine with dread. "No, you'll want to hear this now."

Chloe sighed, tucking Rachel under a pile of flannel shirts before standing. Max avoided her gaze and led the way, putting some distanced between them. 

She felt a growing chill rising in the fragments of her bones, a coldness that hid just under her skin that was impossible to ignore. Max started counting her steps, focusing her senses on the wind in the air, the smell of cinder, the flutter of leaves, and the thud of her footsteps in an attempt to ground herself from the growing panic and fear burning inside her. 

Max stopped in a clearing between stacked cars and the railroad, digging her heels to keep her in place, forcing herself to finally look at Chloe. 

"Well? What is it?" Chloe bit out impatiently, shifting to the side like she was about to turn around and go back to Rachel's side at any moment. 

Max took a breath as something tried to claw up her chest, deep-seated anxiety making her sweat. 

"You should know, Chloe," she stalled, voice tight with suppressed emotion. 

Her childhood friend blinked at her, waiting. 

"I'm Max Caufield," she grimaced, anticipating the fallout. 

Chloe lost her footing, stumbling back like she was physically hit with those words. Her eyes were wide, eyebrows high, speechless. 

Chloe backed away, "Max," she breathed, tone laced with disbelief. But the pain that was steadily revealing itself on her features. Max saw the second she snapped. It was near audible when every piece of restraint was finally abandoned. 

"You bitch!" She roared, breaking the oppressive silence with an explosive roar. "What the hell are you doing back here?" Chloe pointed at her, stepping forward in accusation. 

Max didn't speak. She just watched her let it out - detached from the moment. Like she was a spectator and not a participant. 

Chloe barked a laugh suddenly, throwing her hands up as she spat, "you know what, I don't even care. Five years Max! _Five years,_ and you're back here without a word!"

"I know," she said dryly, forcing in a slow breath as she watched Chloe, taking in the way her body trembled.

As much as she wanted to skip past this moment and get Chloe on her side, Max knew that she needed this; she needed to let this out before it destroyed her.

Max had her reasons for letting Chloe go when she was thirteen, reasons she wouldn't take back even if she lived through her entire life again. It took her a while, but Max realized that without those choices she had made, she never would've learned from them or lived through the events that followed.

She wasn't a good person, Max had accepted that long ago, and she would live with the choices she made - and the consequences that followed. 

Max forced herself to relax, knowing the image she was projecting would only rile up Chloe further. 

"Unbelievable! Un-fucking-believable! I can't believe I missed you!" Chloe's voice twisted with hate and bitterness. 

Max swallowed down her emotions and stared Chloe down, the taller girl backing up as her anger failed to gain a reaction from her. "Why did you, then?"

She watched her body language, choosing her words carefully as she pushed Chloe to confront her feelings and not over the edge. It wasn't easy, and it wasn't kind - especially to someone she cares about. 

"My dad just died, Max! And you left! You left me without a word when I needed you most!" Chloe roared, emotion bleeding through her lungs with a ferocity that twisted the knife Max had jabbed in her own heart. "I didn't know if you were hurt or if you were dead! You never picked up my calls, never responded to my texts, fuck, even my mom couldn't reach your parents!" 

Max never wavered as she watched the tears mirror her reflection in the younger woman's eyes. She never showed how she was breaking inside because this was never about Max. 

"I've known you since I was five years old, Max! I was there for every birthday, every holiday, and there through every hardship! I kept the bullies away; I helped you confront your fears, I showed you _my world!_ And what do you do? You disappeared when I lost my father!" Chloe was so furious; real rage and heartbreak were reflected in her entire expression, the sheer intensity of the emotions reflecting the agony and the betrayal of her decision to break off all contact. 

But Max would bear the burden of her choice. 

"You didn't just _leave_ Max; you took a part of me with you and broke it in your hands without ever realizing what it was!" Chloe yelled, her voice going hoarse as angry tears were now streaking down her face. Max counted every tear, remembering this moment for later, where she would inflict her own punishment on herself. She had learned her lesson, but she still needed a reminder - Max never wanted to cause someone she loved to feel like this again. 

"What am I worth when someone I loved with all my heart and did everything for would leave me without a word? Without an explanation or even a half-assed goodbye? What am I worth when my mother can't even look at me anymore because I resemble her husband too much?" Chloe flung the bottle from her hands into the cars, the bottle breaking into jagged pieces that slowed their descent to the ground as Max's attention strayed just a bit. 

She clenched her hands into fists behind her back, hiding the trembling that the violent action caused. 

"What am I worth when my mother chooses to marry a man the complete opposite of the man who raised me? Who doesn't treat me like a person but a prisoner in my own home? Who goes through my shit and questions my every action, suspecting me of every crime that happens in this fucking place?" She cried more than she screamed, but there was nothing gentle about it. Chloe broke much like the bottle, violent and into pieces, slicing jagged edges into the skin to inflict the most pain - and it was only a fraction of her own. 

"What am I worth, Max?" Her voice cracked, pressing her palms into her eyes to stop the tears. "When everyone I care for hurts me?"

Chloe thinks she's worth nothing. That there's no Price to her name, that if she died, the world would move on and find a better life without her in it. 

Max knew because she took Chloe's life from her twice now, and she swore never to let Chloe feel like that about herself again. 

This wasn't a moment she would take back and do-over. Whatever she said now had to come straight from her heart, and if it wasn't enough...

Well, Max didn't plan on living much longer anyway. 

"You ask the wrong questions, Chloe," she said, her voice hardened for what came next. 

"What?" Chloe rasped, wounded beyond measure and barely hanging onto a thread as this conversation continued. 

"It has never been about your worth, Chloe," Max explained, meeting her cerulean eyes with an intensity that came from her very _soul._

"You gave everything you had to every person that has let you down in life, Chloe. You gave yourself freely and made every moment worth feeling alive! You did everything you could for yourself and them. Do you know what that means?" 

Chloe was breathing deeply, looking one step away from the edge. 

"It means that it was never your fault, Chloe. I let you down; that's on me - never you." Max admitted, doing everything she could to show she meant what she said. "And it showed you that in the end, I took you for granted. I took your company, your assurances, and your love of life, and I put you on a pedestal instead of seeing who you were." 

Max knew her flaws, most of all when she had fucked up. "You deserve people in your life who see you; who look at you and chose to put you first because, despite all your flaws, they know you're worth every hardship for those moments you bring happiness to their life. People who understand you on a deep level, who you do things you would never have done without them, and remind you why you want to be alive!"

Chloe looked like she stopped breathing. The anger had been washed away the more Max spoke, the red fading with each sentence. 

"Your best friend lets you down? Be your own best friend, remind yourself every day that you're doing the best you can. That the decisions other people make are not your fault!"

"Your mom lets you down? Chooses someone else over you? Be your own parent, and tell yourself that every day since the moment you've been born is a gift! That the universe wouldn't be the same without you! That you're an amazing woman who is trying to live her life and find her calling in this world, and that even when things seem impossible, you'll find a way! You'll make your own happiness!"

She shouted the words she always wanted to say to Chloe that day at the Lighthouse. She shouted what she had thought of Chloe all along, how the world was not the same without her. That when Chloe died, it was like a spark had gone out and taken all its warmth and light with it. 

"And every person who puts you down? Everyone who tells you that you're not worth it and tries to tell you what kind of person you are, Chloe, you remind yourself that these people have not lived your life! Have they seen your life through your eyes? Every moment of joy or sadness? The love of a father cruelly taken? The abandonment of a mother who raised you in the face of that loss? How hard you've fought to stand here today? To find that happiness in life despite the world's attempt to stamp it out?"

Slowly, Chloe shook her head. Her eyes intent on her, like the rest of the world, stopped moving to have this moment. 

"These people do not matter, Chloe! Relationships are something you have to work like hell to maintain, and they are _never_ one-sided! Your mother broke your relationship - so fuck her! Blood means nothing! _Nothing!"_ She roars, breaking her glacial composure as she gestured furiously. "You can love her, Chloe, but that does not mean you have to give up everything you are for her happiness! That does not mean she can control you! Or judge you! When people hurt you like that, they try to pull you down to their level and hold onto you so you can keep giving and giving until there's nothing left!"

She took a second to catch her breath, sort her thoughts, and idly mused that this was the most you've spoken in years. 

"Let us go, Chloe!" 

She took a deep breath and lowered her tone though no less was its intensity. 

"Let us go and live your life the way you want to," Max sighed, crouching down to rest on the back of her heels, almost kneeling as she looked up at Chloe earnestly. "Be better than who we were to you. It was never our choice to decide how you lived your life. Five years ago, I should've told you what was going on and then see where our decisions led us. But instead, I was selfish and afraid, and I took that decision away from you."

She felt tears blur her vision, the shame of her good intentions reflected in them, and did not let them fall. 

"You deserve so much better than this, Chloe. Be with the people who deserve to be in your life," Max whispered, "Don't let other people make that choice for you," she finished - bowing her head in surrender to the woman's judgment. Whatever happened next was entirely up to Chloe. She had no play in it, no ulterior motives, no part in deciding the choices she would make. It's why she honored Chloe's decision to sacrifice herself for the town. It was never to save the lives of the people - but because she could never take Chloe's decision away from her - no matter how much it hurt her. 

"I'm not okay, Max," Chloe whispered, sitting down in the dirt with her eyes downcast and eyes red. "And it's not that easy. I can't afford rent, I don't have a job, and I'm stuck at home with my mother and my step-douche until I can get out. I just want to leave, Max, run away and never look back!"

"You will," Max said, meeting Chloe dead in the eye when her head snapped up at her statement. "One day, you will get the hell out of here and live your life; start again in a new place with better people."

The time-traveler sighed, glancing at the broken bottle. "That will be the force that keeps you going, Chloe. But you have to start treating yourself right; you have to start looking after yourself and drawing lines for people who don't respect you. You need to fight for yourself, or they'll continue to walk over you until you stop remembering how wrong it is."

"You sound like you know what you're talking about," Chloe commented lightly. Max shrugged. Now wasn't the time for her life story. 

"I told you before, I'm not a good person Chloe, but I don't want to be used by someone who doesn't appreciate everything I've fought through to get here today. I don't have relationships _just to have them_ \- I have them because they make the world worth living in."

Chloe looked upset, and Max couldn't blame her. "Sounds like you've found a pretty great friend, huh?"

She nodded slowly, looking at nothing as she remembered the girl several years her junior and yet brought so much excitement to her life in the brief time they had known each other. 

"What's she like?" 

Max smirked, but her eyes felt heavy with the sadness that weighed on them. "Lyra was a free spirit, drifting through life with child-like wonder and excitement at every little thing. She could fall into a hole in the ground and appreciate the dirt if the landing was soft," she chuckled. "No matter how hard I tried to push her away, she would call me out on my crap and somehow make me want to be better despite it."

"Was?" Chloe asked carefully, clearly picking up her tone and tense. 

Max nodded, closing her eyes as she hollowly responded, "she died."

_Heavy fog rising from beneath the city, people screaming and sirens blaring. "Live, Max," Lyra whispered, her voice cracking over the phone before she lost the signal. Max, running to the edge of the roof and wondering if she should jump to end it all-._

"Sorry," Chloe muttered, uncertainty in her eyes as they darted away from Max with mixed emotions. 

She didn't say it's okay because her heart cracked at the mention of her friend but, "you didn't know."

They sat in silence for a while. Max was exhausted from the overwhelming confrontation of her emotions yet wide-awake with the knowledge of how crucial this moment was. But she didn't know what else to say or if Chloe got anything out of what she had said. 

Max may have saved Rachel with her actions, but could she help Chloe with her words?

After a while, Chloe spoke. "I need some time," she said, sounding tired but decisive. 

Max nodded and stood up, stretching out her limbs from the stiffness of being in the same position for too long. "I'll be back in the morning," she promised, stepping away to where the train tracks led. "Get some sleep," she added quietly and didn't expect a reply as she walked away. 

Max forced herself not to look back - repeating to herself over and over that _she needs time._

And the least Max could do, after everything Chloe had endured, was give it to her. 

* * *

Morrigan Keys was a powerful woman, once known in the world's best casinos for her uncanny ability to read her opponents and stack more money in a single night than most earned their entire careers. She was beautiful, untouchable, and captivated all who looked at her. 

Four years of building that cover were now gone, but Max knew the best places to win the most amount of money on the lowest stakes, and it was worth starting over when she learned the tells of the best players. All she had to do is prove she wasn't someone people could take from.

That was where the _real_ risks were played. 

"Madame Keys?" 

"Check," Max murmured to the dealer, watching the three remaining players in front of her. Each man was in a class of their own, and she didn't want to know what they did with their money, but she knew that the only one who really posed a danger to her was the guy across from her. 

There was twenty-four thousand in the pot, and already she had paid for misreading his tells twice. Max had only used one rewound to stay in the game, but she'd rather not risk her hand again. 

"All check."

"Four players," the dealer placed the cards down. 

Sheng pushed his chips in. "All in, sixty thousand,"

Franko followed, tapping the table once.

The dealer nodded, announcing, "fifty thousand, all in,"

"Bet is sixty thousand," the dealer clarified, looking at the guy who means business across from her. 

Lamone's lip twitched, smug. "Raise." He said, pushing a hefty sum forward, only a fraction of his entire set. 

"Raise, one hundred and twenty thousand. Heads up," the dealer announced, looking to her. 

Max studied Lamone in front of her, holding his stare and analyzing his determination to mirror a statue. 

She was confident she had the game here if only he would call her bluff. 

"Two hundred thousand, all in," Max announced, putting out her insane amount of chips she had accumulated this night. 

Lamone broke their stare. "Call," he said, pushing his chips and cards to the center. 

Max didn't move a muscle, the amount of money in the pot stilling the air around them. Five Hundred Thousand, _just like that._

"Ladies and gentlemen, showdown, please." The dealer looked at them, undeterred. 

As expected, Sheng and Franko didn't stand a chance. It was all up to Lamone now. 

She held her breath and felt warmth in her chest as he revealed two eights.

"Full house, eights full of aces."

Max didn't grin, but it was a very close thing. She flipped her cards. 

"A higher full house; aces full of sixes. Ms. Keys wins."

Max gathered her chips and had the cash in hand barely ten minutes later, determined to get out as fast as she could and get a head start on any tails. Casinos had more surveillance than most military installations, but anything outside the casino was fair game. 

And a woman walking out at this time of night with half a million in cash was just asking for trouble. 

But she had to defend her reputation, and nothing spoke more highly than proving she could protect her own. 

Max sighed without making a sound, throwing the case through a wormhole as a precaution, smiling faintly when it winked out of existence. 

She walked like she owned this city, and nothing could hurt her, flaunting her dress-clad body in a way that spoke of complete obliviousness to her surroundings and her arrogance in her security. 

Hearing the footsteps approaching her, Max kept her body completely relaxed and gave nothing away. 

Metahuman or not, they were still _technically_ in hiding, and the last thing anyone needed was Max starting a civil war six months early. She would have to handle this as subtly as possible. 

As the first touch of hands wrapped around her body, grabbing her and pulling her in a choke-hold. Using his weight against him, she grabbed his wrist and twisted it - flipping him over her shoulder and onto his back.

As his wrist snapped, he was stunned by the pain, and Max acted, reaching forward and pushing a little telekinetic force into her chokehold, knocking him out in seconds rather than a minute. 

Click. 

Max exaggerated her movements, knowing a warning when she heard the cocking of a gun chamber. "What do you want?" She asked, stalling. She glanced around the street, looking for the source. 

"You think you can just walk away with that kind of money?" She heard, deducing adult man, heavy accent - local. 

"Yeah," she shrugged, ignoring the body at her feet. 

"Think again," she heard and had enough sense to freeze time - the pop of a bullet firing at the same moment. 

She grunted as an explosion of pain went through her head. 

Shit, there was a meta nearby!

There was a weight on the timestream, pulling her control of it from her hands with a ferocity that spoke of a specialist. Max reached out, concentrating entirely on her hand, using it as a focus on manipulating time. 

She tried to hold out on the pain, but the more she tried to stop the bullet, the more pressure in her head. 

"Damnit," she cursed, knowing when she was losing. The only thing she could do now is make use of the time she had left.

The first step was agony like every nerve was set on fire, every bone cracked into splinters, and her blood replaced with gasoline. A single step and she felt like her heart stopped, another step and she felt like her organs burst. 

When time restarted, she barely felt the punch as the bullet ripped through her, falling to her knees with a gasp. 

"Doesn't feel too good when someone takes what's yours, huh?" 

Max clenched her jaw, pushing her hand into the entry wound and freezing it, buying herself some time. 

"You lost your touch, Lamone," she replied to the man she beat at the tables, eyeing the silencer of his weapon. 

"And killing me won't get the money."

Lamone finally seemed to realize she had nothing on her. No case, no purse - nothing. 

He was approaching her with his gun aimed right between her eyes. She held her breath. 

"You're going to get me that money," he demanded, but before he could take another step, Max knocked him back with a wave of his hand. 

Then rewound time, feeling the sledgehammer against her brain as she turned time back to-.

"Doesn't feel good when someone takes what's yours, huh?"

Max lifted a hand, intending to crush the weapon in his hands as he was about to monologue. 

Her side exploded into pain, burning her from the inside as another bullet joined the other. She gasped, hands trembling as she covered the second wound. 

"Shit," she muttered, thinking over what happened. 

"You will give me my money," Lamone said as he approached, the muzzle pointed right between her eyes. 

She lifted her hand again, plan in place, and felt the power charge in her hand. 

Her heart hammered in her chest, her brain feeling like it was being squeezed, and her blood boiling as she turned back time to the moment she took the first man down, his body several feet away from her. She didn't hesitate, warping forward as she placed a wormhole to where Lamone would show up, stumbling on her feet as she landed. 

"You-" she heard before levitating Lamone up in the air, forcing the man's limbs to remain in place, and then took his own gun in her control. 

Max looked into the man's eyes as she pointed his own gun at his head. "What are you?" She gasped, pieces the clues together. "Temporal?" 

His jaw ticked. 

She clicked her tongue, hating how he got one over her and hating how she didn't see it coming. Temporal Selection was a type of power that influenced chronokinesis. She had only met three in her life, and they were always a pain. No matter how much time she reversed, they controlled the immediate future out of potential outcomes, and the only way to stop them was to act before the outcome could happen. 

Which was a millisecond of decisions. 

He wouldn't remember that he used his power but would notice he was undeniably lucky. 

Until now. "Game over."

She pulled the trigger. 

Dead.

Max sighed, counting her first kill in the timeline, and quickly warped his body to a place it would never be found. In this kind of business, anything goes as long as you don't get caught. But she couldn't just kill everyone that tried to cross her. 

She walked over to the remaining man, out cold, and dragged him out of the street. 

He would've robbed her, and now his boss has disappeared. He's only alive because she doesn't need that kind of cred. She'd rather stay off the criminal radar, thanks. 

But that didn't stop her from taking the paper from his wallet to add to her five hundred thousand. 

Max cursed as she stood up, black spots taunting her as they blurred her vision. 

She knew she should've picked up medical supplies.

She warped out of Italy, returning to her home and country to see the sun rising in startling contrast to the time difference.

What time-traveler needs sleep anyway? 

The treehouse looked the same since she saw it the last time, exactly eleven years ago. It was covered in dirt and leaves and was clearly touched by time. The drawings she made with Chloe were weathered and stuck to the ground. Random toys and Chloe's treasure was tucked into the corner. 

The treehouse was made with two floors, courtesy of William, and as Max pulled herself to the upper floor, she wondered if Chloe would forgive her for the trail of blood she was leaving here. 

She grabbed a knife, cutting through the dress and pulling the fabric off her body with a hiss. 

Max swallowed, reaching behind her for the bottle of water and uncapped its contents on it, washing away the dirt and grime that had gotten on it from the trip. 

She shuddered, feeling the blood cling to her skin even more tightly, and knew before she even reached for her shirt that this would leave a mess. She was leaving a stain on her childhood sanctuary that made the wine spill pale in comparison. 

Stupid temporal, stupid time, and stupid stupidness. 

Max felt the adrenaline crash the moment she collapsed from the warping - teleporting across the country through wormholes had used the last of her energy, and she couldn't tell where she was bleeding from more - the holes in her torso or her face. 

She coughed as she reached for her clothes, dragging them toward her and just barely shying from the blood around her. At least she managed to avoid getting hit anywhere vital - it just hurt like a bitch. 

Max's first instinct was to sleep off the night's events, but she remembered she had people to look after. She had to go back to Rachel and Chloe, keep them safe, and she was pretty sure that if she fell asleep now, she wouldn't wake up again. 

She took a breath, as deep as she could manage, and pulled on her bra with minimum effort, straining her upper body to keep the weight of the wounds. She grimaced at the dried blood that cracked on her neck and winced in vertigo she got from pulling on her underwear gave her. 

Fuck, this is why she was an infiltrator. She wasn't a fighter, no matter how much she trained, and when she was outmatched, she always got hits like this. 

She glared at her t-shirt, bypassing it as she went straight for her hoodie, pulling on the sleeves and doing her best to keep the outside stained with blood. The last thing she needed was scaring someone into calling an ambulance for her. 

She cried out as she pulled on her jeans, her legs lifting to fit the tight fabric and mercilessly pulling at her core. Max was a hot mess, half-dressed with forehead wet with sweat and dried blood. 

Max opted to leave the leather here, unable to bear the thought of putting the heavy jacket over her injuries, and reached for the money she looted from the hitman. Having five hundred thousand dollars in cash was great, and all, but walking into a convenience store with a hundred dollar bill was asking for trouble. 

She pressed her cast off t-shirt against the bullet wounds, hissing in a breath through her teeth, and warped into the alley behind the convenience store, staying out of the surveillance cameras with careful consideration. 

Entering the store was a blur. It was like an out of body experience as she sauntered into the store with her body taut with tension, trying to act like she was perfectly _fine_ and not about to _collapse_ if a soft wind blew into her. 

Her hands fumbled as she tried to get the baggies off their hooks, and she stumbled back when she almost passed out from the reach. 

"You're bleeding," a meek girl whispered, coming up on her right with careful steps. Max took a moment to just stare at the girl, her eyes seeing familiar features but her mind, not computing. 

She sighed, following her eyes to where the blood was beginning to bleed through her jacket. 

When Max didn't - couldn't - say a word, the girl gently took the package of bandages she had been reaching for and dropped it in her basket. "Thanks," she croaked, drinking in the blonde hair and calm chocolate brown eyes - a golden cross glinting in the harsh light of the store. 

"Do you need any help?" A loaded question, but Max didn't answer past the surface. "Grab me needles and thread."

When Kate came back, Max was holding herself up on the shelf with white-knuckles, and she came back with more than she asked for. 

She didn't say anything. Max had to remind herself she wasn't broke anymore. 

Kate walked her up to the cashier, keeping an eye on her - a total stranger - and catching ever falter with such gentleness and consideration that Max wondered how someone so kind could exist in this helltown. 

"I'll be okay now," she said as she strode away from Kate, a bag of medical supplies in hand, but she barely turned the corner when a stronger breeze blew into her. 

The next thing she knew, she was opening her eyes, wondering when she closed them, and Kate pushing her jacket into her wound in one hand. In the other hand, was her phone. 

"No hospital," she rasped, trying to grab the phone only for it to graze her sleeve.

Kate looked at her with wide doe eyes, fear ingrained in them. She could be a criminal for all Kate knew, why hadn't she run for the hills? Max was acting suspicious and didn't want to go to the hospital and was bleeding outside a convenience store, barely thirty minutes since getting shot _in another country._

She chuckled dryly because Kate would've helped her anyway. That's just who she was, and it's how she died. 

"I-I don't think the thread is enough," Kate whispered, her fingers frozen over the dials. 

Max swallowed, fighting the fuzziness holding over her head, and idly realized she never wiped the blood off her face. Or the make-up, for that matter. 

"It's okay, I've done it before," she stuttered over her words and then over her feet as she straightened herself up on the wall. 

"That's not reassuring!" Kate snapped, anxious as she watched Max move away from her. But she sounded hurt - hurt just at the sight of her. 

Max smiled, glad to see her old friend again, even if it was like this. 

"You're sweet, and I appreciate the concern, but I can't be seen," she normally wouldn't give so much away, but it was Kate, and somehow she was always someone she felt she could confess murder to and not be judged for it. 

Kate stared at her phone a moment longer and then put it away. Max knew at any moment, Kate could choose to make the call as soon as she was gone, but she had faith in the girl. And, even if she did, that was her choice - she wouldn't take that from her. 

"Okay, just get help, okay?" 

Max nodded, stepping away from the girl. Strangely, she felt energized from talking with Kate, like everything would be okay, and she found the strength to keep moving. The moment she was sure she was out of sight, Max warped to the Junkyard, pavement turning into dirt in a single step. 

She collapsed against the door of an old car, unzipping her hoodie and exposing the truly horrific holes in her torso with blood coating her skin. 

Max let out a shuddering sigh, pulling out her purchases with dread. 

This was going to hurt. 

* * *

Chloe woke up feeling like there was sand in her eyes. And not the soft, warm kind either but rather the tiny shards of grain that made her eyes itch and burn like she poured alcohol down her eyes and not her throat. She hissed, scrubbing her eyes of residual sleepiness, and took the annoying sun on her face with a glare. 

The events of last night slowly returned to her, and she groaned as she pressed her forehead into her knees. 

This wasn't the first time she slept in the Junkyard, but why she chose the most uncomfortable car seat imaginable was beyond her. Then again, it's not like she was thinking. 

Chloe hadn't broken down like that before. Not even when she realized her father was never coming home and her mother would never be the same, not even when she was going out thrill-seeking and risking her life doing suicidal stunts. 

Her body felt hollow like last night had gouged out her what remained of who she was, and Chloe quite frankly didn't know what to do with herself anymore.

She felt completely drained. 

It was ridiculous. Chloe never did anything half-way. When she partied, she went all out. She never backed out when she decided to do something potentially life-threatening (all the better!). But in one day, Rachel had nearly been abducted after taking a _date rape drug_ at a school-sanctioned party, and then Max returns to her life. 

In a way where she couldn't just ignore her or push her away. Because Max had changed in such a way that Chloe couldn't recognize her. And... Chloe didn't know how to feel about it. It was strange that she hadn't said much about herself, yet Chloe felt like they could've been friends.

Only to learn that they had been. 

Fourteen years old - that felt like a lifetime ago. Chloe sighed deeply, wondering what her life was turning into as it spun more and more out of control. 

She hadn't cried so much in her life, fuck she didn't even know a person could even cry like that. She fell apart last night, Max's words spiraling in her head like the clarity she needed. A perspective for her shit situation that she always felt about but couldn't put the words for. A perspective no one understood, not really, and Chloe didn't know what to do with herself in the face of it. 

Chloe was tempted to go back to sleep just to avoid the future and seeing Max again. But-

"Chloe! Chloe, I need help!"

"Fuck!" She cursed, panic accelerating her movements to the point that she all but bashed her hand against the door frame as she threw herself out of it. The dirt scraped angrily into her skin, but Chloe didn't spare the thought of the mess she made of herself as she pushed to her feet and ran through the junkyard. 

"Chloe!"

She slid to a stop as she realized Rachel's voice wasn't coming from the cabin but toward the entrance, where her truck was parked. Fuck, did someone steal it?

"Shit, what happened?" She heard Rachel over the stack of washing machines and rolled the idea of climbing them around her head as she winded the trails. Chloe scoped out the area, wondering if some creep had gotten in to try and scare them. She grabbed the pocket knife in her pocket, ready to flip it out and defend Rachel at a moment's notice. 

But as she turned around the corner, she realized two things with perfect clarity. 

Rachel was awake and terrified; her eyes narrowed in a manner that Chloe recognized as holding back tears. 

And someone was leaning against her truck, bottles, and cloth around her, with Rachel reaching out like she wanted to help her but didn't know how to. 

"Rachel, what's-" She sucked in a breath as she caught sight of the deft fingers threading a needle through her skin, blood painting their hands as they pressed down on _the fucking hole in their abdomen!_

Chloe knew who it was without looking at her. Her instincts were screaming at her to hold her and protect her - and she stamped it down violently, reminding herself of what she should feel for this woman...

A woman who was apparently bleeding out against the tires of her truck.

So, she didn't look at her and instead mapped out Max's body with her eyes. She justified it as a means to get to know her after five years of absence. But in truth, she didn't know if she could look in the eyes of the same woman stitching up two bullet holes like it was an _everyday occurrence._

"Fuck Max, what the hell did you get into?" Her mouth spoke before her mind caught up to it, and she clamped it down in sheer frustration as _concern_ entered her tone. Fuck!

Max frowned, taking a shuddering breath that showed the perspiration of her cleavage, and said in a startling dry tone, "nothing that wasn't worth it."

Rachel shot a hand toward Max, grabbing her shoulder and drawing Max to look away from her stitching. Chloe gulped at the dark intensity in Rachel's eyes. 

"Max," she annunciated, drawing out the name with great caution. "You've been shot twice." 

Max had the guts to smirk at Rachel, the corners of her lips raised with a twisted sort of irony before she looked back down to focus on stitching her wounds, which okay was pretty important, _but_ she really shouldn't ignore Rachel when she uses that tone. 

Chloe cringed on Max's behalf, sitting on the ground across from Rachel to pick up one of the bottles. Pure alcohol. Ouch. 

She stared at the bottle, wondering why the hell they were acting so calm about this. Max wasn't wearing a shirt, and her torso was all but smeared in blood. She had two bullet holes, and instead of going to the hospital like most people, she was giving herself first aid in a fucking Junkyard!

"I'm aware of that, thank you." Chloe bit her lip at Max's deadpan, peeking up at Rachel, whose expression just went blank. 

Uh oh. 

Nostrils flaring in warning, Rachel's lips twitched into a mirror of Max's early smirk. "Are you also aware that whoever shot you might've followed you here?"

Chloe could've whistled. Smooth. 

A tactic to gain information knowing to say nothing would only put Max into a tighter spot. 

But Max didn't try to hide anything and actually smiled, a sincere one this time, faded and laced with amusement to an inside joke they weren't apart of. Her eyes looked far away as she replied, tying the knot to the thread as she replied. 

"Don't worry. There's no chance of that."

Chloe couldn't help but interrupt Rachel's ploy here. "That's not reassuring, Max." She caught Rachel's eyes as she said it, making sure Rachel knew exactly which _Max_ was with them right now. 

Rachel didn't give anything away but a small fraction of a nod, easily overlooked by anyone who wasn't focused entirely on her and darted back to Max. 

"You know, you're actually not the first to say that to me today," she snapped the thread with her teeth, spitting the excess to the ground. Max met their eyes individually before pulling the bottle of alcohol from her hands. "Seriously, I wouldn't put you guys into danger."

Chloe swallowed back the dread she felt at that answer. Afraid to delve into that ominous topic. 

Rachel had no such reservations. 

"But at the cost to yourself," she observed, and they all knew it wasn't a question. Max answered anyway as she sterilized her bloodied hands and washed the red stains from them. 

"It's my body, my life, and I knew the risks," Max said, looking directly into Rachel's eyes as she admitted to the complete lack of self-preservation. "And like I told you, it was worth it."

Rachel picked up the bandages before Max could reach them, their fingers grazing as she pulled away. "What was worth it?"

Max's fingers twitched. 

"What. Was. Worth it?" Rachel drawled, passing Max the bandages but not letting go of them. Max didn't move to reach them, and while her lips were in a smirk, her eyes were cold with the assessment. 

It was hard to recognize this as her childhood best friend. 

"That's not your concern," she denied bravery, for Chloe knew Rachel wouldn't stop pushing until she got what she wanted. And in the case of getting answers, Chloe couldn't blame her. 

Rachel let go of the bandages and pulled out her phone in response. Max's entire body locked up tension at the taunt. "Max, you saved my life yesterday. And while I'm grateful, I won't be able to live with myself knowing you gave up your own future in the process."

Chloe rubbed her arms from where goosebumps had suddenly raised. 

"And while I can't say I know you, there's only one reason I can think of why you're here and not a hospital after getting shot," Rachel looked pointedly at Max's torso, which if Chloe ignored the recent stitching for a moment, would see the amount of scar tissue riddling her body. 

And tattoos. Chloe paused, darting over to Max's arm where a colorful sleeve stood out, untouched by all the blood. She tried to look away from it, but the butterfly and head of the dragon struck her heart with familiarity. 

That butterfly was the exact color of the one on her arm. And the dragon, it was Rachel's, she designed it herself. So unless the tattoo artist took it as his own design and Max somehow decided to get it... it didn't make sense how she could have them. 

Chloe tuned back into the conversation, pushing her questions, and having the same tattoos could mean and nearly jumped at the look in Max's eyes. 

"Fine," she said devoid of feeling, her now clean hands ripping open the pack of bandages, which she placed skillfully on her wounds. "I was acquiring a resource when someone tried to take it from me. I handled it."

"Like you handled last night?" Rachel persisted. 

Max broke eye contact as she began to tape down her bandages. She didn't answer. 

Rachel didn't sigh. but it was a very close thing in the way she ruffled her hair with her hand. "You know, ever since Chloe told me about you, I've thought about what I would say to _the_ Max Caufield if I ever met her."

Chloe snapped her eyes to stare at Rachel, trying to plead with her to say nothing. 

When the blonde didn't say anything right away, Max glanced at her as she poured alcohol on another bandage. "And?" Max asked calmly, like Chloe wasn't mentally visualizing the thirteen-year-old Max she remembered with the woman casually cleaning the blood off her. 

Rachel shrugged. "And there's nothing to say. I can't think of a single thing." 

Chloe looked at her in disbelief. 

And Max? Max took one look at Rachel's sheepish grin and burst into laugher - Joyous and free and almost hysteric, seeming to startle the brunette more than anyone else. But it didn't stop her, and the dark turn this conversation had gone all but cleared the air. It stole the tension and the worry and was replaced with something lighter and far warmer. 

Chloe decided then and there, as her world changed around her with Max back in her life that while she didn't know what the future held - she'd fight for it because even if they made for a messed up depressing sight, they were hers, and she didn't want anyone to try and take these girls from her. 

Not ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've noticed many versions of Chloe, Rachel, and Max's personalities throughout the LIS fandom. For this story, I have based these characters on the MBTI personality types to better understand how they react to certain situations and hardship. Chloe, for instance, is an ESFP, and Rachel is an ENFJ. While canon Max is an INFP, I would say she has developed a new personality based on the life-altering experiences she's been through in the last five years of the - If The Truth Lies - universe. I haven't entirely made up my mind with Max's personality, but when I answered an MBTI personality test with the mindset of an INTP (myself) and Max (INFP), I ended up with an INTJ-T personality. Weird, right?
> 
> Not that may not particularly interest you. 
> 
>   
> Anyway! Max's confession was based on my personal experience when I was young. Like Max, I had to get out of town and didn't have much time to say goodbye. I was really close to a good friend and decided not to tell her why I was leaving and let our "bridge," so to speak, burn through self-sabotage, anxiety, and good intentions (thinking she would be better off without my troubled life). Years later, I had a falling out with my girlfriend for making choices for me despite having good intentions and realized my own wrong-doing. So, since Max has had a lot of time to grow and learn from her mistakes since using her chronokinesis, I had this headcanon that she would have a similar revelation and (being as close to Chloe as she was) would've wanted to say something like that if she ever saw her again. 
> 
> Thank y'all for reading because just knowing that makes my day a little brighter <3


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